The Tyranid Wars Saga: Siege of Iyanden
by Spiritblade
Summary: [COMPLETE] Posted on dakkadakka[dot]com and Portent[dot]net 7 years ago 19971999. This is a story of when the Tyranids had besieged Iyanden and decimated its Eldar population. Victory is never without price.
1. Chapter 1

_**The Siege Of Iyanden-Part 1**_

_**Written by Spiritblade**_

**_Disclaimer:_** Warhammer 40K belongs to them, not me. I wrote this story almost 7 years ago, and Azarail had been my pen-name then. I have made some subtle alterations to the original transcript. This story was posted on Time to consolidate all my work in one place - past AND present. Now, for the future...

_**The Tyranid Wars Saga**_

Bennu Silverflame, a veteran of countless battles, gazed at her fellow Eldar as they pulled on their armour in preperation for war and loaded their shuriken catapults and readied extra grenades for the inevitable fight. Bennu had fought everything, from the courageous Imperial Marines of the Emperor, who would rather die than surrender any piece of ground to their enemies, to the blasphemous, hated enemies of the former, the Traitor Marines and their Chaos allies. She had slaughtered Orks and crossed swords with the Dark Eldar. But none of these threats are greater than that of the Tyranids. The first invasion, the human Imperium crushed, but even they had sustained grieveous casualties. The second, Hive Fleet Kraken, dispersed its forces along the Imperial worlds, and now, it seemed, it had one of its tentacles wrapped around Iyanden. The Space Marines of the human God-Emperor hated Tyranids as much as their Chaos brethern, if not more. Already, many planets in the sector were feeling the brunt of the Tyranid hive fleet, and the Imperium mobilised for all-out war. And in any case, even the Eldar or the Orks would not want to be caught in the middle of the Imperium's wrath once it was channeled. Bennu had armed herself with a shuriken shrieker cannon, a laspistol and a power sword. Fighting was going to be heavy. She turned and was about to march out of the armoury when she nearly hit the armoured wall that stood before her. She jumped back in surprise, looking into the stern and unforgiving features of a Space Marine.

Clad in power armour and standing good seven feet, the Space Marine captain was indeed a formidable sight to behold. His eyes bespoke of countless decades of combat against the enemies of the Imperium, and this was one soldier Bennu would have liked to have each time she went to war. One of her friends in the Dire Avengers had told her about the battered Imperial warship that had been caught in a heavy fight with the Tyranid invaders. Of the twenty warships, only one remained, but they had exacted a bloody toll upon the Tyranid fleet. Without any choice, they docked with the Eldar Craftworld and the Space Marine captain spoke to the Farseer of her Craftworld, asking for a truce in the forthcoming war and giving information to them of the Hive Fleet's strength. The Space Marine captain hailed from the dreaded Blood Angels Space Marine chapter, but under his command were Space Wolves, Dark Angels and Ultramarines Space Marines, numbering up to over a hundred and twenty of the Imperium's best warriors. With the Space Marines were three battalions of Imperial Guards, sending the number up to half a thousand human soldiers. Many of the Eldar balked at the presence of the human Imperium's warriors within their craftworld, but the wiser ones did not argue. With the encroaching Tyranid threat, the Eldar were more than willing to accept help from any allies- even if it came from the Imperium. There had been some of here brethern who had said that it was better to fight alone than accept help from the inferior race of humans. The Exarchs quelled all signs of discontent with firm rebukes, for those Exarchs knew what manner of men the Space Marines of the Imperium were. Constant warfare against uncountable enemies had turned humanity into a race that acted more than it spoke.

Bennu took note of the beautifully-crafted Nova storm plasma pistol and the Concilliator power sword that was a symbol of the captain's authority. "We are almost ready, brother Captain,"she spoke, using the term that most of the human marines used. The Blood Angel's noble facade pulled into a smile, and he spoke, revealing the sharp teeth that could tear through skin and flesh with frightening ease for the blood the laid beneath,"I know."

"And yours?"

"They have prepared their defensive positions. I came to see how your people are doing."

"Oh?"

The Blood Angel chuckled to himself, and said,"Oh, how I wish Mephiston were here. He would damn hate to miss this party. I need to ready myself for one of our punch-ups, if I live through this. I hope Commander Dante doesn't wrap his hands around my neck for helping you."

Bennu smiled, and placed a slender hand on the marine's shoulder,"You lived this long. I think you will survive."

I looked at the Eldar woman that stood beside me, clad in her strange alien armour and armed with strange weapons that I recognised. On one slender arm was a shrieker, a short form for a shuriken shrieker, for the cannon unleashed a wail like that of a tormented soul when it fired. Among others was a laspistol and a power sword. Her long, cascading silver hair cascaded about slender shoulders framed a face that was pure beauty. Her face was thin and delicate, yet strong and war-hardened at the same time. Her strong cheekbones seemed chiselled as though by an artisan of Terra's long-gone era, and gave her the look of an archangel queen. Her eyes were a shimmering gold that seemed capable of reading even my blackened soul, and her moist, ruby lips inviting and speaking of temptations that I could hardly understand. She carried herself with the confidence and grace I found hard not to admire. For the first time, my heart burned, as my Primarch Heart spoke, Marriage is often to that of duty. Like a father who raises his child, he does so because he loves what he had given life to.

I could admit to the truth spoken in those unspoken words. I turned towards the silver-haired Eldar,"Get your hair done and your helmet on. This day, the Emperor and the War God sounds the clarion call to war.". The voice in which I spoke to the Eldar was one that I myself did not recognise. She smiled again, and went to obey my command. Beneath my heart, I sensed the Black Rage, waiting, patient, like a daemon waiting to be unleashed upon hapless mortals. I knew the price I would pay if I joined the Blood Angels, but I did not care then, thinking that I could conuqer the Black Rage like Mephiston. It was only then did I learn the extent of my arrogance. The death of our Primarch, Sanguinius, haunted my dreams almost each night, and I sometimes woke screaming with wrath and grief. Rare were the nights I slept peacefully as the death of my Primarch echoed in my very ears as he fell before Horus the Traitor. I could count them ten times the fingers of my hands, and for one who has lived for over two hundred years, that is a very short time. Truth be told, I would have liked to have been with my Primarch when he had crossed blades with Horus the Traitor. It had never been your fault. All men, even those as mighty as I and my brother Primarchs, can die.

I turned and looked a the other assembled Eldar, who made their final prayers to whatever gods they worshipped, and prepared for the conflict. They stood up and marched out of the armoury, weapons ready, their demeanours grim. Bennu stood before me, her features covered by a strange mask,"It is time, brother captain."

I smiled and lowered my crimson, angel-winged helmet onto my head before I drew my plasma pistol and my Concilliator power sword,"Then let us reap a bloody harvest."

Captain Valkaze Stormguard of the Dark Angels Space Marines looked about him, where his brother Dark Angels readied their heavy weapons alongside the Eldar forces. Above him, the shrill roar of vyper jetbikes heralded the arrival of reinforcements. Valkaze had stood with his childhood friend, Shateiel Muhammad of the Blood Angels, on his decision to join forces with the Eldar. As had brother captain Gewesen Strongsword of the Ultramarines, and Jacobus of the Space Wolves. The only protests had come from the commanders of the Imperial Guards, but that had quickly been squelched. What with the heavy damage to their warship, they would never get far. At least, standing with the Eldar, would at least be a wiser choice. Then and there, they would have someone guarding their backs. Brother Librarian Cardius had discovered that the usage of psychic powers on the Craftworld was enhanced, and that the results would be most satisfying. The Warlocks had explained that the psychic wraithbone core would support the Librarians' powers, at least for the time being.

"Brother captain, we are ready,"came the Imperial Guard captain's voice on his helmet's comm. link.

"Confirmed, captain. Be ready."

"Roger."

Of all his brother captains, Valkaze was the only one who wore Terminator armour while the rest wore power armour that allowed them more freedom of movement. Damn, he still remembered the day his friend had said,"You look like a gigantic, outsized beetle, old friend.". He had grinned, and answered,"Oh? So do you. Only you look like an undersized one!".

Valkaze's group consisted of four squads of Terminator Space Marines and a squad of Devastators for artillery backup, inclusive of a Chaplain, a Techmarine, an apothecary and two Librarians that formed his command group. A Dark Reaper, one of the Eldar warriors, stood beside him, and Valkaze turned to face the skull-helmed warrior,"Are all the defences on this sector ready?"

"Almost. Within twelve hours, the Tyranids can expect a bloody fight."

"And I'll guarantee you, Eldar, that we'll give them just that. I intend to stick this,"and tapped his power sword,"in the right ear of the Hive Tyrant, and pull it out the other side.". The Dark Reaper chuckled,"A wager, then! If I can claim more kills than you, you'll give me a good sword."

"And if I win?"

"Then I'll personally fix a shuriken catapult to your Terminator battle-gauntlet."

"Eldar technology, eh? Very well. You have your wager!"

The Eldar laughed, and turned to the direction of new arrivals. More Striking Scorpions, Guardians and Warp Spiders have arrived onto the scene, bolstering the defences of this sector. Valkaze turned and grumbled at the Eldar,"I have a feeling that I may lose this wager..."

"Damn, I am uncomfortable around these humans, Allatarn. They're on our side, I know, but these lot seem very determined to take a fight to those cursed Tyranids."said the Dire Avenger Kolarin to his friend. The Eldar had been very uncomfortable with the human Imperial troops, for they had been enemies for many times over the centuries, but they have also been allies as well. Particularly against the forces of Chaos and the Tyranids. But, the human Imperial troops seem single-minded in their bloody thirst for Tyranid blood. Obviously, this thirst for vengeance stemmed from the sight of the death of their comrades-in-arms.

They dug in their emplacements, waiting for the inevitable. Men and women of the Imperial Guard regiments clasped their lasguns and boltguns, while others aided in the setting up of heavy weapons emplacements. Heavy bolters, rocket launchers and lascannons were set up alongside Eldar plasma cannons and scatter lasers. The Eldar soldiers exchanged grim looks with the human Imperial guards and Space Marines, all knowing what they fought against would depend if they could fight as one army. This day, all hatreds were buried. Kolarin watched a Space Marine Librarian of the Ultramarines stride past him, bearing a force axe and a bolt pistol. He conferred for a moment with the massive form of the Dark Angel Terminator Captain, before taking his place amongst the Eldar forces. Many of the Eldar looked at the marine in surprise, but continued with the preparations.

An amused voice said,"Do not worry, Kolarin. You'll be fine.". Kolarin turned to face the masked facade of a Howling Banshee. He recognised the voice of Allarana, a childhood friend whom he had grown up and played at with. "Worry? I am not worried. I am scared."

Another voice, this one belonging to a Space Wolves Grey Hunter Sergeant, said, "Fear is a useful ally, Eldar, but it is a slave that longs to be your master. Keep that fear leashed, and it shall serve you well."

"I wish I had eaten whatever it is that gives you human marines iron stomachs."Kolarin grumbled.

The Space Wolves sergeant chuckled,"I lived with my fear for so long, that it no longer controls me. I have faced death and dishonour, and found only that I feared the latter. There are many things worse than death."

"Will you be joining us for the fight, sergeant?"

"Please, call me Thor. And yes, I and my entire squad have been assigned to help in holding this line. and watch over your sorry behinds."

I looked down upon the area I was assigned to protect. From the heavy defences here, I had a feeling that this place would soon be a battleground. The Craftworld was enormous, ten, perhaps, fifty times larger than the largest Imperial orbital fortress. And that is enormous, trust me. It would at least be at least three times the size of Luna, Terra's moon. I had taken the liberty to arm myself with storm bolter and additional ammo clips for the fortcoming battle. The Eldar were rushing, but they were disciplined as they set up their heavy weapons. Outside, in the star-lit emptiness of space, three dozen Eldar destroyers prepared for the Hive fleet. It wouldn't be long now. My comm. link chirped to life,"Brother captain, the defences have been set in sectors 2, 5, 8 and 7."

"Confirmed. Give me half-an-hour, and sector 1will be up and ready."

"Aye, brother captain."

Bennu loped up towards me, holding that seemingly heavy shuriken shrieker cannon on one slender arm with amazing ease. She asked,"The Farseer sends me to ask if your forces are ready, brother captain."

"Fear not, they are."

Bennu turned to the myriad Imperial weapons my forces had brought in. Lascannons, heavy bolters and rapier laser cannons were black contrasts compared to the beautiful weapons of her people, though they were no less deadly. A Blood Angel Chief Librarian strode up towards me, and said,"Brother captain, one of the Eldar have told me to tell you that the Hive Fleet will be upon us in five hours."

I exchanged a grim look with the Eldar war maiden beside me, and she nodded. She reached up and kissed me on the cheek, "Be careful."

The five hours passed swiftly as the Hive fleet dropped out of warp space, the enormous bio-ships numbering up to the thousands. With an echoing roar that shook the Craftworld of Iyanden, heavy defensive batteries and the sleek Eldar destroyers sent bolts of light streaking towards the approaching hive fleet. The Hive fleet retaliated, as one, launched thousands upon thousands of landing spores towards the Craftworld.

I gripped my storm bolter in my armoured hands as I saw the fiery streaks, as many as the stars in the void of space streak towards Iyanden at incredible velocity. Each of those streaks, I knew, was a landing spore that contained a Tyranid monster. And the entire void of space were filled with those shooting stars. Bennu and her Guardians suddenly appeared at my side, with the latter bearing rocket launchers used by the Dark Reapers. I had no time to berate the Eldar war maiden as the first swarm of spores crashed into Iyanden and throughout the city-domes. I snarled angrily and turned towards Bennu, "Have your brethern established interior city defences?"

"Yes," she answered, "The Farseer saw to that, and made arrangements for the other aspects to guard the cities."

"Captain," shouted an Eldar, "They're coming!"

I whirled around and pulled the trigger of my storm bolter, howling, "Open fire! Kill them all!". My order was unnecessary, as the entire defensive line opened fire upon the charging host of monsters. The harsh yells of my Imperial forces and the shrill, unearthly cries of the Eldar were deafened by the sounds of gunfire and the dying roars of the charging monsters. My comm-link chirped to life as my other brother captains reported the arrival of the tyranids in their respective defensive zones. The enormous number of the ravening hosts of monsters were such that even the heavy weapons' loaders were busy firing a lasgun with one hand and helping to reload the heavy weapon with another. The Tyranids soon retaliated with their own long-ranged weapons, many of these aimed at the heavy weapons emplacements protected by the plasteel-reinforced bunkers. Hails of crystallized acids and bio-toxins smashed against those protective bunkers. I knew what the hive mind was attempting. The heavy weapons were second to our battle-tanks and possessed a higher rate of fire that was no less destructive, and thus, it sought to destroy them. Doing so would give the tyranids a tactical advantage on the battlefield. Many of those bio-weapons, however, were also turned against the defensive lines, who showed no signs of giving way whatsoever. Fire returned for fire, and lascannon bolt was retaliated with a hail of crystallised venom crystals that could easily melt through armour. Out of my twenty Terminators, only four were armed with assault cannons, and three with Heavy Flamers. Eight were armed with the double-barrelled storm bolters, while the remaining five were armed with lightning claws and thunder hammers with storm shields, in preparation for the bloody close infighting that would be inevitable. The bodies of the tyranid slain piled up, but for every one slain, five would step in to take its place.

I have fought against Tyranids before alongside the Lamenters and the Scythes of the Emperor Space Marines, and their First Company veterans told me about how to fight these cursed hellspawn. The words of Captain Altair of the First Company returned to my mind, "Tyranids are mostly close-combat, brother Captain Shateiel , and do not discount the strength of their bio-weapons. Even though Terminator armour can take much damage, repeated poundings by a long-raged weapon known as a Venom Cannon can kill them. Beneath all of our armour, brother marine, is a human man. Superhuman, but still human. You can die.". His words rang in my mind, but the enormous alien horde that stormed towards the battle-lines, a wave of snapping claws and snarling, bared fangs that, was nigh unstoppable despite the hellish punishment dealt out by the Eldar and my human troops. There, a Leman Russ Demolisher sent a plasma bolt crashing into one of the enormous sickle-armed carnifexes, blowing a hole right through its heavily armoured carapace. There, one of my Imperial Guards writhed in pain as the projectiles of the Devourer tore through his flesh, and the living organisms burrowed through his flesh and made its way to his brain. An Eldar Striking Scorpion put his chainsword, ending the Guard's misery, and his companion used a nearby hand flamer to torch his fallen comrade's corpse before he turned to face his enemies, firing with a renewed and venomous fury. My men and I have held a long standing hatred of the Tyranids and Chaos, and I was no way in hell letting the Eldar fall to the Tyranids. This was the Emperor's universe, and I wanted these two out of the picture. The Chaos Forces would deal you a swift death, but bot so for the Tyranids.

On one portion of the battlefield, I caught sight of a Carnifex vomiting out a ball of crackling plasma, the flaming ball of destruction growing larger as more power poured forth from its fanged mouth. I had no doubt that it would hurl that ball of flaming destruction right into the defensive lines. The Black Rage threatened to overwhelm me yet again, and I fought it back down, snarling, "Bennu! The Carnifex! Take it out!"

The Eldar war-maiden gave swift instructions, and five rocket launchers and a shuriken shrieker cannon soon blasted the carnifex into oblivion. The ball of plasma it had been holding at the tip of its four sickle-arms exploded amidst the ranks of the monstrous horde, incinerating those too close to the explosion. I felt the Black Rage threatening to spill forth once again, and I gritted my fanged teeth and fought it back down. My charging into the host of monsters would see me dead, and my death would do those under my command no help. My storm bolter unleashed a withering hail of armour-piercing explosive bolts, cutting down dozens of the hellspawn as they loped towards us. But, despite the punishment that we piled upon the tyranids, they just kept on coming. The Craftworld of Iyanden would be another reenactment of Macragge all those centuries ago, when the Ultramarines Chapter destroyed the Hive Fleet Behemoth, but lost most of its First Company in the process. The consequences on Iyanden would be more catastrophic. The Swooping Hawk aspects glided in and fired their lasguns and grenade packs into the advancing hordes of monsters. Suddenly, from above, the dome of the city cracked open as flying monsters swooped from the monstrous form of a harridan. I swore. Gargoyles. These fire-spewing buzzards are a threat to the defensive lines.

The Swooping Hawks, seeing them, disengaged from the battlefield and sailed upwards to meet the gargoyles. One of the Fire Dragon Exarchs used his firepike and blasted a charging hormagaunt to a cinder, before turning that lethal weapon onto another inrushing genestealer. Then, a blast of lightning shot out of nowhere, blasting a crater in the middle of the snapping host of monsters.

Bennu's voice emerged in my helmet's comm-speaker, "The Phoenix Lords! They've arrived!"

I turned to the direction of where a mighty Farseer stood, clutching a writhing runesword in one slender arm as he hurled anotehr bolt of lightning amidst the monstrous Tyranids. I knew him, for I have, in my long centuries of life, seen him. Eldrad Ulthran, Farseer of Ulthwe, had arrived with what reinforcements he could spare from his Chaos-embattled craftworld. And I recognised two others. The one that wielded the Shuriken Shrieker cannon like a scythe and bore a grim armour that was like those used by the Dark Angels Chapter, was Maugan Ra, the Harvester of Souls. The other was a woman, holding a deadly power blade in the shape of a halberd, and a three-pronged chakram that was known as the Silent Death. That one was Jain Zar, warmistress of the Howling Banshees. Three of the most infamous of the Eldar's warriors have come to join in the fray. Above, in the skies, the Eldar destroyers performed daring hit and run attacks, lashing out with reinforced plasma and heavy lascannons at the hive ships, before darting out of the way. Dozens of Eldar fighters did the same, trying to cripple as many of the hive ships as they can.

Then, an Eldar charged up beside me, and spoke as he lowered his firepike and blasted the incoming hormagaunt to a smoking cinder. He looked like one of the Fire Dragon Exarchs, but his weapons were not those used by those elite Eldar warrior lords. In his other hand, he wielded a burning axe, upon which the runes were writhing, as though in eternal pain and anguish. He spoke, "I thank you, warrior of the Imperium, for coming to our aid in our direst hour. Your assistance shall not be forgotten."

_**To be continued………**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**The Tyranid Wars Saga**_

_**The Siege of Iyanden**_

_**Written by Spiritblade **_

_**Part II**_

I recognized the warrior who stood beside me. He was a warrior of legend even to the Imperium, for he has been both a friend and a foe. As both, he is extremely formidable. This Phoenix Lord was Fuegan, the Burning Lance, Phoenix Lord of the Burning Dragons. A thunderous explosion shook me from my thoughts, and I turned to spray a hail of bolter fire into the monstrous horde of tyranids. Amidst the Tyranid monsters stood enormous creatures with oversized heads too large for their feeble and atrophied limbs and fragile body. What happened next ensured that I would never underestimate a tyranid ever again, no matter how strange they may look, ever again. The creature sent an incinerating swathe at one of the bunkers, tearing a huge swathe through dozens of the Eldar defenders and wounding several others. The bunker itself was badly damaged, but its occupants were unhurt, if not stunned. They quickly resumed firing with their shuriken catapults, yelling curses at the enormous creature.

My Devastator squad, armed to the teeth with heavy bolters, rocket launchers and lascannons, turned their weapons simultaneously upon the Tyranid and blasted it into oblivion, sending vulgar hand signs as they did so. The creature exploded in a gory spray of ichor before crashing into the ground. That did the trick. For an instant, the entire monstrous horde grounded to a halt, confused as to what to do. So, the Lamenters were right all along! Blow the bigger bastards(and hope they were the swarm's leaders) to hell, and the entire swarm starts going batty! The Eldar and my forces took advantage of the situation, and began to send an incinerating hail of gunfire and psychic power lancing into the heart of the monstrous force. Hundreds of the lesser Tyranids were reduced to ashes or piles of blood and bone as the defenders of Iyanden exacted a bloody vengeance for their dead. But, their shock lasted but for a moment, and soon, they loped forward, unleashing hails of crytallised poisons and corrosive projectiles. Like a wave of death, they raced for the defensive positions. One of my Terminators opened fire with his Heavy Flamer as they got within the weapon's lethal range, incinerating several of the monsters. One of the genestealers leapt toward my battle-brother, and I dashed forward, whipping out my power sword and intercepted it, slicing it in half. Blood splashed all over my armour, and I felt the Black Rage bubble forward, and I snarled in bloodlust, feeling the unholy thirst for the crimson life blood arise once more, threatening to overwhelm my will. Another genestealer bounded forward, and before I could pull my sword back, it was sliced to pieces by shrieking projectiles. I instinctively knew that Bennu had saved my skin once more. That woman has a habit of saving my life.

One of my Teminators said, "Brother captain, Valkaze of the Dark Angels report that the defenses of sector 4 has collapsed. He is now fighting a war from street to walkway."

I cursed and instructed ten of my brother Terminators to go down to Valkaze's embattled sector and aid in the defenses before the entire dome-city fell to the invaders. And that would be dangerous, for it would allow the hellspawn a foothold on this Craftworld. My brother terminators departed as swiftly as they could in their cumbersome armour would allow them. I prayed to the Emperor that they would get there in time, or there would be nothing left of my childhood friend that had fought and laughed with me throughout my four centuries of service to the Imperium. The thoughts of him dying before these blasphemous hellspawn finally broke down my will, and the Black Rage, finally overtook me, and the visions of my Primarch, Sanguinius, became my own, as he faced down the traitor space marines and the Great Traitor himself. All that I was aware of was my howl of infernal rage and bloodlust as I drew my golden-bladed, crackling concilliator power sword and began to hack my way through the host of monsters.

Valkaze looked around the burning city as the remnants of his brother Dark Angels and the Eldar Dire Avenger squads forces fought a bloody battle in the streets and tunnels. Many of the beautiful pyramids and spires had toppled, burning, onto the floors of the Craftworld, and those were wet with tyranid blood. Explosions blossomed in the distance as jetbikes roared overhead, firing their lascannons before darting away. Valkaze had quickly established strongpoints throughout the city, chiefly at the main tunnels and passages connecting the dome city to the rest of the Craftworld, before the battle for Iyanden began. The ensuing battle had been violent, and many of the Eldar and his brothers had been slain protecting the craftworld. Valkaze had not the time to take in his surroundings, for upon landing and receiving the Farseer's permission, they had begun setting up defenses all around Iyanden. Now, with the defensive lines that Valkaze had helped to set up collapsed, the battle was now in the very streets, where the shadow of any building may hide a prowling genestealer. Valkaze trembled at the memory when he and his friend had fought a bloody war within the confines of a derelict space hulk crawling with the four-armed monsters. Valkaze remembered still the fear that gripped his stomach when he faced them, remembered the heavy gunfights and the alien roars that re-echoed throughout the hulk. As memories of years past returned to the Dark Angel captain, he tightened his grip upon his storm bolter. Shateiel and he had fought in over hundreds of battles against Chaos, Orks, tyranids, and even Eldar. It was among the last that his friend had a weakness for - the reasons of which Valkaze did not understand. But, Shateiel was his friend for over three hundred years. Where one went, the other would not be far behind with his brother marines. The Blood Angels were a seclusive lot, and even those loyal to the Imperium had the right to fear them. For centuries, there have been records of bloodless corpses on whatever world they were stationed for long periods of time. None were allowed on the Blood Angels' homeworld of Baal, save by invitation. The interdict was for the safety of any who wanted to land on a world full of vampires. Valkaze grinned, remembering the glare his friend had shot him when he described the Blood Angels as such.

A band of Eldar warp spiders appeared alongside Valkaze's squad, and the Dark Angel turned to look upon one who was clad rather differently than the rest of his squad. A Warp Spider Exarch. Several of his brother marines turned to watch the warp spiders as they appeared out of nowhere. The warp spider made a queer flowing gesture, an indication that the space marines should advance while they protected their rear. Valkaze said, "All right, brothers, move out." The space marines moved towards the sounds of heavy battle as quickly as possible.

It was a few moments later that Valkaze came upon squads of embattled Eldar as they strove to repulse the tyranid invaders. Howling Banshees, Dire Avengers, Dark Reapers and Striking scorpions were caught in a bloody melee fight. Genestealers, termagants and hormagaunts were swiftly overwhelming the Eldar's defensive positions. From the flank of the Eldar, a tyranid warrior smashed through one of the buildings, and a Dire Avenger Exarch dashed forward and hacked at it with its power sword. The tyranid roared with mingled pain and fury, and sent the Eldar sailing, blood trailing from the upper half of the Eldar's body it had sheared off with its boneswords. Valkaze shouted, "To battle!"

The space marines quickly charged into combat, firing their weapons as they went, cutting down dozens of the hellspawn. Those equipped with jump packs quickly leapt into the fray with a single bound, their power swords and gloves exacting a bloody retribution as they fought shoulder to shoulder with the Eldar. Fires burned everywhere throughout the Craftworld, shrouding it in the smoke of what may be the defenders funeral pyre. And in the empty void of space, the Eldar warships finally manage to destroy or cripple the Hive ships.

For now, the battle has ended. Farseer Karhedran stood beside the Ultramarines Captain Gewesen, who looked upon the field of bodies, drenched in blood of alien, Eldar and human. Indeed, Karhedran knew that the battle has just merely begun. The tyranids would keep on coming until Iyanden has been totally destroyed and consumed. He turned towards the captain, "This is only the beginning."

Gewesen cast his empty plasma gun before him and raised a fist to the stars above, "Not today, you bastards! Not today!"

Karhedran retreated to his meditation chamber, as he put aside his witch blade and sat cross-legged upon the altar adorned with the symbol of Iyanden. Captain Valkaze of the Dark Angels said that Iyanden's craftworld emblem had similar aspects to that of the old Terran japanese culture. In that, the symbol meant knowledge. Perhaps there were many things that the Eldar shared with the humans a long time ago, when it was a young race seeking direction, seeking wisdom. But, as millenias pass, and Man began to face countless enemies, war became a religion, an endless battle against the innumerable enemies who dared to threaten its people.

Karhedran knew of the Tyranid invasion, knew of the alliance between his people and the space marines, knew of a great fire that would be forged from a human champion and an eldar war-maiden. That fire would be the salvation of the Blood Angels and the Eldar, and would herald the approach of Armageddon. That day, would symbolise the final war between Chaos and the material world, with the destruction of both. Eldar, human, Ork and squat would join forces, ignoring hatred of centuries past, to face a common enemy who seeks their destruction. Even the human Imperium waited stoically, awaiting the Angel Of Destruction to blow the trumpet that would herald the final war between Good and Evil, and where the Emperor and his loyalist Primarchs would finally end the Long War between themselves and the Chaos Traitors.

Armageddon. Ragnarok. The Hour of Judgment. In one word, the final war, the final nightfall of the universe.

But, that would been eons away, but it was inevitable.

Karhedran closed his eyes once more, and began to pick the threads of that future.

Bennu paced outside her chambers nervously, looking every so often at her chambers where the Blood Angel Space Marine captain laid. She had ordered her Guardians to place him therein, and dragged one of the Dark Angels apothecary from the medical facilities where he had been tending to the wounded Imperial Guards and marines. She had watched the Blood Angel cleave through ranks of genestealers, hormagaunts and tear down tyranid warriors. The space marine terminators of his chapter followed their captain into the fray, the Striking Scorpions and Howling Banshees charging behind them. Space Wolves Blood Claws with jump packs leapt into the fray with maniacal frenzy, their close combat weapons cutting through the snapping hosts of monsters. The ensuing battle had been bloody, and there have been many who were wounded. More Eldar destroyers had gated in, and transports bearing warriors from the Alaitoc and Saim-Hann Craftworlds have arrived to aid their Eldar brethern in this hour of peril.

Though, initially, they were surprised by the sight of the soldiers of the human Imperium, none would question their worth in battle that laid ahead. The sight of the battle grounds of Iyanden have made clear the dire threat that faced the dying Eldar race. Bennu remembered the words of the Ultramarines Captain Gewesen Strongsword. He had indicated that the first wave of tyranids was to test how heavy the defences of the Craftworld was. The next battle would undoubtedly put tyranid bio-titans such as hierodules and hierophants into the battleground. Imperial forces had faced these titans before, and Gewesen gave the Exarchs full knowledge about the tyranids. The door to her chambers hissed open, breaking her concentration, and the Dark Angels apothecary stepped out, looking tired, but satisfied. "How is he, apothecary?" asked Bennu.

"He shall recover in time for the next battle. But he must rest, for he is delirious from his wounds. The Black Thirst is still upon him, so I suggest that you leave him alone, or he may drain your blood. I do not understand the Blood Angels, but I do not question their loyalty to our Emperor and the Imperium."

"Can you tell me more of the Blood Angels, apothecary?"

"I do not know much, lady, for the Blood Angels are as reclusive as we are. It is best you speak to brother captain Shateiel . He may tell you, and just as well, may not."

"I see."

The apothecary turned to leave, the jackboots of his power armour clanking on the plasteel floor. Then, he stopped and turned, "Oh, there is one more thing. In his delirium, he kept talking about you."

"And how do you know that?"

"He kept saying that there was an angelqueen in the midst of the battle, fighting the hellspawn with a wrath born of heaven. Most notably was his description of silver hair and sun-gold eyes that burned as the sun, and I surmised it may be you, for you are the only Eldar I have seen so far with silver hair and golden eyes," the Dark Angel apothecary said, and then he smiled and added, "I thing he also likes you."

"And how do you come to that conclusion?" Bennu asked mildly, half-amused by the human's impertinence.

The Dark Angel apothecary then removed his helmet, to reveal, to Bennu's surprise, the Captain of the Dark Angels himself. Valkaze Stormguard had taken off his Terminator armour and put on that of an apothecary to aid in the healing of the Eldar and his fellow Imperial warriors. He smiled, "Because, Lady Bennu, I know. I have never seen Shateiel like this before, never once in our near five hundred years of service to our Emperor. Even before he became a marine, he was uninterested in women, unlike me. When we both became what we are, I still retain some of the gentlemanly attributes that I have."

Bennu raised one snowy eyebrow in amusement, a half-smile curved on her full lips. Now, this was rare. Space Marines of the Imperium have a grim nature to match their colossal, superhuman strength - humour was rare among these elite warrior breed. The Dark Angel captain obviously held a realistic view of his charms.

The comm-link on Valkaze's apothecary power armour chirped, and Valkaze spoke into it, "Yes?"

"Brother captain, we need some more medical helpers here. Could you hurry up with brother captain Shateiel , and get down here?" came a voice from the comm-link. "I'm already done with him. Give me ten minutes. Well, Lady Bennu, duty calls. Take good care of him for me, won't you?" the last thrown at the Eldar war-maiden. Bennu nodded, and watched the Dark Angel captain leave, before she entered her chambers and looked at the recumbent form of the Blood Angel space marine. Even in repose, his expression was tormented. Even without his power armour, the human marine captain was large. She gazed down at him, and ran a slender finger across his face, hoping to smooth out the lines of pain and anguish. And to her surprise, the Blood Angel captain sighed peacefully, and his expression became peaceful. She strode to the door of her chambers and secured it.

And outside, on Iyanden, the Eldar and the survivors of the human Imperial forces made ready for the second invasion as Eldar warships and scout ships returned from their patrols and confirmed the sightings of more Hive Ships heading towards Iyanden. And this time, it would be bloodier than the last. As Captain Gewesen of the Ultramarines aided the Eldar in strengthening the defences of Iyanden for a second assault, Captain Jacobus of the Space Wolves sent out a distress signal, calling for any nearby Imperial fleet to come to the aid of Iyanden. Yes, they have been enemies before, but they have also been allies. And against the tyranids, there can exist, between the races of this galaxy and the Great Devourer, a war onto death.

As a matter of safety, one of the Eldar flagships came to take away the Eldar who were too young or too old to aid in the defense of the Craftworld away. They could not risk losing so many, and all knew that, victory against the Hive Fleet Kraken, would be very, very high. The Phoenix Lords gazed down from the spires of the craftworld's citadels at the Space Marines as they rushed about, preparing heavy weapons for the next onslaught. They had been surprised at the presence of Space Marines upon Iyanden, but yet, were not so.

"I am truly surprised, Eldrad, that Karhedran would allow humans upon the Craftworld. Already, the Avatar has been awakened, and no doubt that Khaine would send those marines to their deaths as he would send the Tyranids."

"That is one dilemma we have to quickly solve. The Avatar must lead the defences of one of the dome-cities, while the Space Marines and their Imperial Guards aid in the defense of another. And, yes, Karandras, we have been the human Imperium's enemy as well as their ally. Though we do not fully trust the human Imperium, there are still dreamers among its ranks. And we have, my friends, in our midst, one of them."

"A dreamer? Most likely he'll be a risk to his own men. Who is he? The commander of the Imperial Guard?"

Laughter came from everyone, even the grim Maugan Ra.

"Nay. He is the captain of the Blood Angels, and the leader of the Imperial contingent on Iyanden."

The laugher was soon cut short as the Phoenix Lords fell silent and exchanged glances with one another. A Blood Angel captain? The Blood Angels have earned their bloody reputation even amongst their Dark Eldar kindred, and no fool, Eldar or otherwise, in his right mind, goes around trying to anger a Blood Angel. Unlike their brethern, theirs was a berserker fury that outstripped even the animal wrath of the Space Wolves. They all knew that, and those savage warriors have proven to be worthy adversaries for more than once. None have lived to tell the tale of crossing swords with these grim, cursed warriors. The other Space Marines were just as formidable, and the Eldar have known through experience that the Imperium has never given ground nor surrendered.

"And is that captain well, Eldrad?"

"He is recovering," said the Farseer, and a mysterious smile curved his lips, gentle yet sorrowful, "And he will fight alongside us. We face an enemy that is worse than Chaos, my friends, and the Imperium has spent centuries, millenias, fighting their Traitors. They know fully well that. Now go, aid in the setting up of the defences. We do not have much time."

The other Phoenix Lords bowed before Eldrad Ulthuan and left, leaving the Farseer to gaze into the empty, star-filled void of space. So beautiful, and yet, so many dangers. The universe was filled with wonder as it was with danger. He watched a squadron of Alaitoc destroyers jump out of warp space, and take positions near Iyanden's orbit. Soon now….


	3. Chapter 3

_**The Tyranid Wars Saga**_

_**The Siege of Iyanden**_

_**Written by Spiritblade **_

_**Part 3**_

I dreamt. But the dream that now covered me in its warm embrace was not that of my Primarch when he died, but when he lived and loved, just like every man. Each marine of any Chapter who served the Emperor, was a son of the Primarch of the chapter he chose to serve. I remembered my past, when I was but a normal boy, living and dreaming, learning and studying. I had been bored with the normal routines of life on the planet of Aiur. Located in the distant galactic east, my homeland was one of the garrison planets of the Imperium. In short, it was a military strongpoint, where thousands upon thousands of Imperial Guards and Space Marines were stationed. With its massive population, the Space Marines and the Imperial Guard found it easy to find new recruits to expand their already enormous ranks. What with hundreds of enemies, the Imperium would take in every man and woman who knew how to wield a gun and pull the trigger. Aiur, like Necromunda, was a hive world, and there were gangs who fought constantly with each other. It turned boys into men fit for service within the Imperial Guard. Those who were younger would be recruited into the Space Marines, for one needed to be young for the geneseed of a space marine chapter to take root within the host body. But, the gangs made it an unspoken law that they fought only in the hostile underhives, way beneath Aiur's planetary surface, so that the peace of the planet would not be disrupted. Taking their gunfights on the surface would doubtlessly attract the ire of the Adeptus Arbites of Aiur, who were known not to take any bullshit from the gangs. If they want to fight, fine. Just do it in the underhives, but don't bring it up to the surface.

Ahhh….yes, home. It has been so many centuries since I returned to my homeworld, and I longed to see the mountains and the lush, green meadows of Aiur once more. I knew that my parents were long gone, for they have died more than three hundred years ago, but they knew what had become of me, and were proud of what I have become. My father had sent his master-crafted autobolter and storm bolter along with a winged helmet of a Dark Angel Captain, painted red and with the teardrop and wings emblem of a Blood Angel. All of these were gifts from different space marines. My mother gave me a picture of all of us when we had been a family.

Family. A real family. One where you had a father, a mother and brothers and sisters. I remembered my father. Tall, stern and strong, with backswept, womanish, dark hair. His serpentine slitted eyes shone with the sun-gold pupils that shone with cunning and malice borne of one who has fought every creature from the mind-numbing horrors of the Tyranids to the abominations of Chaos - and won. His was a demeanor that commanded respect even from the veteran Space Marine captains. How he managed it was beyond my comprehension - but I believed he had done an unbelievable feat that earned their respect. And if the space marines respected you, believe me when I say that the members of the Imperial Guard will be awed. And my beautiful mother, a head and a shoulder shorter than my father, had been the leader of the dread Black Rangers. Scouts and snipers, the men and women of this regiment were the bane of every enemy force. Sabotage, espionage and assassination were but parts of their battle-skills. In their ranks were even Space Marines of the Space Wolves chapter that would often go with the Black Rangers on their missions. My mother was a head and a shoulder shorter of my tall father, but she was a direct contrast to his pale skin and dark hair. Her beauty and features was one that reminded many a man of an Eldar Howling Banshee Exarch - beautiful to behold, and never to be trifled with. It fitted my mother perfectly in every way one can imagine. Dark, tanned skin, fair, snow-blonde hair and almond-shaped amethyst eyes and her tall, lithe form reinforced the description of the men and women under her command. In battle, my father had said, she was a potent fighter. Nothing lived when she raised her Hellfire-class long-rifle. Even in close combat, she was a sight to behold, dancing away from enemy blades with an Eldar-like grace and delivering her forte. It was during the war on the Chimeran system against Chaos and its traitors that my father and mother grew ever closer in those bleak days. When the Chaos Lord Saurion led his unholy armies onto Chimera, the Imperial forces stationed there were outnumbered, but they met the Chaos traitors with a hatred born of more than four hundred generations. It had been a bloody war indeed, with the dead numbering in the hundreds of thousands. A call for help had been sent out by the system's Astropath to the worlds of Macragge, homeworld of the Ultramarines Chapter, Baal of the Blood Angels, and Fenris of the Space Wolves and to all nearby Imperial systems. The war dragged on for more than five months, a bloody guerilla war between the loyalist Imperial forces and the Chaos Traitors. The vile ones learnt - the hard way - that the Chimera system was not going to be easily taken. What the Imperial forces lacked in strength, it made up with cunning and strategy, and as a result, exacted a bloody toll upon the Traitors. The siege was finally broken when the Chaos forces of Saurion were caught in a well-orchestrated trap, of which only the Chaos Lord, much to my father's raging fury, escaped with his personal retinue.

I've kept contact with my family for as long as I could, and got word in my twentieth year of service, right after I was dubbed a full Blood Angel space marine, that I received word that my siblings had children. And deep within my heart, I knew that I would spend nigh a millenia, lonely save for the companionship of my brother marines and the duty of eternal war. I fought for over four centuries to ensure that my family and a hundred thousand others shall never see the dark flames of war scorch away the joy that they knew, never let them see the unending night of war, and of the skies turned amber and black from flames.

But what joy shall I, a Blood Angel, ever know?

As though responding to my words, a sensation of warmth and comfort enveloped me, touching my soul, drowning the sorrow, the loneliness, and the unholy rage which makes me see a monster in a mirror and not a human. I opened my eyes to gaze upon something that shocked me to the core of my soul, and yet filling me with wonder, was an Angelqueen. Her strong, lush body glowed with starfire, as her twin enormous wings of the purest white swung around as she danced. Long tresses the colour of the sun swirled as she spun, singing joyously before me. The song she sang held me in firmer thrall more than the religious war songs that I sang within the Chapel on Baal. The chamber that I rested in soon began to blur, and melted together like a painting left in the rain. Soon, I became aware of nothing save the angelmaiden's beautiful, wordless song and the soul-deep longing it stirred in my heart. Her song caused something I thought long extinguished to rekindle and awaken once more.

And I awoke…….my eyes gazing upon unfamiliar surroundings. From the looks of it, this place was someone's personal quarters. I shook my head, clearing the dizziness therein and chuckled. It was but a dream, I thought, and I have many of those. Though never like that. I felt my face redden in embarrassment, for to have such carnal dreams was close to bordering on the blasphemous. Our Traitor brethren had no compunctions about taking their pleasures out upon a woman, but we of the Emperor's knights are celibate. The door to the chamber suddenly irised open, and Bennu Silverflame stepped in, clad in the armour she wore during the battle against the Tyranids hours ago. She smiled impishly, "So, Blood Angel, you are finally awake. And did you sleep well?"

I grumbled out an answer, and that impish smile, if possible, grew wider, "Such language. But that is to be expected

from you human barbarians. But, I have news that you may wish to hear.". Bennu's expression became serious when she spoke the last sentence and I motioned for her to continue. "When you were unconscious, the Farseer sent out scout fighter planes on a search and destroy mission. They have located the main fleet. They are at the Korvan Star cluster, which is but a warp-jump away from here. We have, perhaps, two days, four at the most. As to the matter of the reinforcements, we have some forty thousand Eldar from the other Craftworlds, and more are arriving to aid us in our battle against the Great Devourer. But we need time so that we can assemble more troops. Forty thousand will not be enough to defend this Craftworld. Also, I have received a message from a friend of yours.".

Bennu held out a data-crystal and placed it in the hologram projector. The face of Mephiston, Lord of Death, and Librarian Master of the Blood Angels appeared. Craggy, noble, and yet sinister, the Lord Librarian of the Blood Angels was a man both respected and feared throughout the Imperium. Of any marine I have ever known, only Mephiston could take on a Bloodthirster single-handedly - and win. A grim smile formed on the hologram's image and Mephiston spoke, "I bid you greetings in the name of Sanguinius and our Emperor, Brother captain Iceblade. I have received news from Farseer Karhedran that you have taken up arms in defense of the Eldar against the tyranids. He also told me that the battleship Black Storm had been heavily damaged during the battle with one of the tyranid's hive fleets. Your actions are rather foolish, but commendable, and I say that you have learnt something from the past two hundred years. Not like the stripling fool I took you to be when you started out.". Mephiston chuckled darkly, before continuing, "I have spoken with Lord Commander Dante, Azrael of the Dark Angels, Ragnar of the Space Wolves and Marneus of the Ultramarines. We will join you as soon as we can. I have dispatched orders to the nearest Imperial fleet to aid you in your defense of Iyanden. Hold thy ground, brother captain. For the Emperor, and for the Imperium. Oh, and one more thing, brother captain - don't you die before I get there, or I swear you shall never hear the end of this!"

The image faded as the message ended. Bennu looked at me in mingled amusement and consternation, "Are all your Blood Angels like this?"

"Fortunately, no. Or I would have gone blood-mad a long time ago." I replied with a straight face, "Mephiston is dead serious most of the time, and it is only with me he jokes with. Not with Dante, nor any of the others. He treats me as though I am his younger brother, forever getting into all sorts of trouble, and that it is his duty to pull my sorry neck out of the noose I put myself in.". Bennu raised one silvery eyebrow in amusement, "Oh? You mean this is not trouble enough?". I glared at her, "I like it not when you start to quote my own words back at me. So tell me, how goes the defences?"

Bennu gave her report as I pulled and strapped on the leather armour all space marines wore beneath their power armour. I listened carefully, making a mental sketch of which portion of the Craftworld was totally secured, and which needed additional bolstering. What with the reinforcements coming from the other Craftworlds, our chances of survival are higher. Three sectors have been devastated by the heavy fighting, and the Eldar have set heavy patrols on every street in Iyanden. Those Eldar too young or too old to fight have been evacuated, with Valkaze overseeing the evacuation. I knew my childhood friend well enough to know that he and I had the same mindset. He and I both disliked massacres, and our hatred for the tyranids and the forces of Chaos bordered on the virulent. Bennu also said that half of the fighters that went out were destroyed, but they had crippled some five of the bio-ships with anti-ship missiles. As to the space marine reinforcements, they were five jumps away, but they were heading with several Eldar convoys at full speed. This war, to attract so many, would be an epic battle. I just hope it would not be an epic defeat, for the destruction of Iyanden would teeter the dying Eldar race on the brink of destruction.

I finally came to my weapons, which were sorted neatly on the table. Storm bolter, Hellfire autobolter, concilliator power sword and my nove storm plasma pistol. I ran my hands along the autobolter's finely crafted handgrip, my memories going back to the time my very-human father had once wielded this in battle against the enemies of the Imperium. My mouth pulled into a smile, and I turned to Bennu, "It is time. Gather the others. This shall be our finest hour."

"Aye, Blood Angel. It shall be our finest hour indeed," she smiled, "But tell me one thing, Sheik. Will you ever regret this choice in the future?"

I stared at her, and weighed the question she had just levelled at me. I knew that the relation between my race and that of the Eldar have come to blows many, many times. But we have been allies against common threats such as the piratical Orks, the evil armies of Chaos, or the forces of the Great Devourer. I looked down at the Concilliator power sword, touching the double-headed eagle emblem of the Imperium upon its iron scabbard. Upon it, was an Eldar rune that my mother called Saroir.

Bennu looked at the emblem and said, "You mother must have been a knowledgeable woman to know of such a rune. Few in your race could ever understand its meaning."

"What does it mean?"

"Eternity or infinity. The most common use is the flame that burns all that it touches."

I smiled, "Indeed. Just like mother to carve this for father."

Hours later, I gaze upon the city that was soon fated to become a bloody battleground. I looked around me, awed still by the beauty of the Eldar city. None have ever come here and lived to tell the tale, and only Inquisitors have ever come here and lived to tell the tale. Why did it ever have to come here? I wondered. I clutched my triple- barrelled autobolter, as shouts and orders were flung in a crossfire of words. Defences were set all around Iyanden, from every cross-road and alleyway, and from rooftops to windows. Imperial Guards and space marines hefted heavy bolters into position from rooftops, and those bearing rocket-launchers readied themselves from the rooftops and windows and balconies of Eldar homesteads. Men and women ran everywhere, rushing to their designated defensive positions. The tunnels interlinking to the other dome-cities have been heavily fortified, but even that I laid in question, for the tyranids could well overwhelm the defenders through sheer

weight of numbers. It had happened before at Maccrage, when the Tyranid Hive Fleet Behemoth attacked. Even titans were torn down. By the Emperor! If they set a number like that against Iyanden…… I swiftly pushed the thought out of my mind.

I felt the touch of adrenaline in my system, feeling excitement, anticipation, for the forthcoming battle. I felt the daemonic wrath of my Black Rage waiting to be unleashed, just like before. Before I had left to supervise the preparation of the defences, Bennu gave me the sharp edge of her tongue in front of my brother marines. I could see the looks of amusement as she shouted curses about my intelligence and heaped degrading terms on my Chapter. My brothers ignored the latter jibes if it were to see me take a tongue-lashing from a woman. I took it, and I swallowed it. Surprising. Obviously, the feared reputation of my chapter doesn't frighten this woman. That is what makes her so damn attractive! If this gets out to Mephiston….I grinned. The results would probably not be to my liking.

I looked around, smelling the acrid smoke from the heavy fighting hours before. Much of the dome-cities were burning, and many, many Eldar have been slain or wounded. Half of my Imperial Guards were dead, and nigh forty marines slain or rendered incapable of fighting; problem is, they still want to come out and thump the tyranids. In the ruins of a building, an Imperial Guard squad set up heavy bolter and missile launcher emplacements. Directly adjacent to that unit was a band of Eldar warriors, readying their own heavy weapons. Dark Angel Devastators took to the rooftops, preparing their heavy weapons for an all-out fight. Long Fang Space Wolves were hefting lascannons as though it weighed nothing, and the toothy grins they gave everyone in particular was an outright message that they were ready. I could hardly contain a grin that bared my fangs in a feral smile. "Come on, you hellspawned bastards. Iyanden has readied the dance floor. Are you going to disappoint us?" I said, looking at the twinkling stars that shone gloriously in the vast, empty darkness of space. Eldar battleships floated near the Craftworld, and more arrived with each passing hour. Some I even recognised. Eldar pirates and outcasts, Exodite warships and even the colours of the Eldar pirate Galina the Crimson. Oh Emperor, not her!

Galina the Crimson was perhaps one of the most feared pirates in the Ultima Segmentum sector. Her name bespoke of hundreds of plundered worlds and convoys. Finally, exasperated and infuriated, I was assigned to rid the galaxy of this menace. I took a battleship and fought a running war through twelve systems. It was sheer luck that we rammed her ship, the Storm Wave, and boarded her. Galina had personally challenged me, and I, for one, could not resist her challenge. Galina, I remembered, was proud, strong and cunning. And like her race, she bore the deep, delicate beauty that struck most men with astonishment. The astonishment that an Elder Power could give such beauty to a mortal façade. But, her skill with the sword was one that sent many a foolish space marine captain to his grave. My hand went unconsciously to my left side, where her power sword had punched through my power armour. I had won that duel, and Galina the Crimson swore an oath of loyalty to me. Whenever I needed help, all I needed to do was just call for her. But the memories of our first meeting lingered still. I still remembered her voice, swearing, "We shall meet again, you and I, Blood Angel. And the next time, you shall not be so lucky."

"Lucky?" I said to myself, "I wonder if this was one of Dante's pranks."

A voice, not Bennu's, said, "If it was a prank, then I say it was a good one."

I knew that voice! Galina the Crimson! I whirled to face the outcast Eldar woman whom I had conquered in single combat. I turned to face her, and said, "So, you finally arrived, sister Galina?"

"Indeed. When I heard you were out on one of your childish escapades, and started yelling for help when it got out of hand, I rushed here with my entire fleet. You are more troublesome than even the Dark Angels."

"Don't let Valkaze hear that. He'll drag you to the Interrogator - Chaplains, just for the amusement of seeing you scream in fury."

Galina the Crimson smiled, and her hand rested upon her power sword. The meaning was clear. Valkaze may be an experienced space marine captain, but against the likes of Galina, not a chance in the Eye. Another voice shouted out, "Sheik, we have some new reports from our ……." . It was Bennu. Her sun-gold eyes met Galina's, and whatever went between the two of them was obviously personal. Four hundred years of life did not teach me to poke my nose in another's affairs - provided they did not threaten the safety of the Imperium. Her eyes not leaving Galina, she said, "Brother captain, Valkaze wishes to speak with you, as do the other captains."

"Aye." I said, "Don't cause trouble - both of you. The Tyranids will provide enough of that. If you disobey, you'd both wish your blood was in my chalice.". I strode away, feeling the twin gazes of the pirate-queen Galina and the war-maiden Bennu on my armoured back. By the Emperor, I thought, my life just got worse.

Bennu turned and glared at Galina, "So, sister Galina, you have finally returned home. You, who left the Path, and who turned the back that protects our souls against Chaos."

"Aye, Bennu. I came back because my home was threatened, and I shall not see whomever threatens it, be victorious. Yes, I may be an Outcast, but I love the place I was born in. I played in these streets when I came of age; I found my first love here, before he was slain on Khanduras by the forces of Chaos. I am here because I am honouring an oath I've made with the Blood Angel Captain."

"That is so unlike you to honour oaths, Galina. You left the Path that safeguards our souls against the dark forces of Chaos. Our souls are beacons to the daemons who seek to devour us to increase their power."

"You believe that, Bennu? Our souls may be bright, and even in death, we are aware, but the souls of the humans are also aware. Unlike our history, mankind is forever damned to war against itself, and even we have fought against our Dark Kin. They are not so unlike us. To them, there is no such thing as too great a sacrifice. And the man that just walked away from us is not fighting for the honour of his Emperor; he is fighting for us."

Bennu found that her anger had vanished, for she had found truth in Galina's words.

"And I know you love him."

Bennu choked back emotions she had never felt before. The way he had smiled, the way he stood proud against the tyranid forces, and the way she felt terror in her heart when she had seen him charge, blood-enraged, into the Tyranid hordes. Fear of death had become nothing compared to fear of a race's destruction. Galina flung her long, red tresses back, and said, "As do I. Never have I met a human so understanding of our ways, yet bound to duty stronger than tempered steel. Had I never met him, I would never truly understand the nobler side of the human race. There is more in the humans than even our Farseers would care to admit."

"I cannot. He is human, and I am Eldar. I…..I….."

"Did it ever matter, Bennu Silverflame? Few human men are ever worthy of an Eldar war-maiden. If it had not been for the threat to Iyanden, I would have dueled you for his affections."

Bennu cast a scorching glare at Galina, clearly jealous, and realised too late that Galina had drawn her into her well-orchestrated verbal trap. She flushed deeply, and lowered her head, allowing long silver hair to cover her flush. Galina's ensuing smile was mischievous, "In so short a time, sister Bennu, never have I seen you so besotted with a man - and a human one - to compound matters!"

"Watch what you say," the silver-haired war-maiden scowled.

As I watched from one of the spires of the Craftworld, I saw many transports arriving from the other Eldar homeworlds. Their Eldar brethern have chosen not to abandon their brothers and sisters in their direst time of need. The tall, plumed helmets of the Eldar flooded the enormous Craftworld, and the air crackled in anticipation for a coming war. I could sense many a curious eye upon me, for the Eldar had no anticipated a Space Marine force on one of their Craftworlds. Also, I caught glimpse of many a look of dread. As they have a right to be. My Chapter was not one renowned for its self-control once a battle went underway. The Black Rage was both a blessing and a curse, but more of the latter. After each battle, we were called upon the pray and meditate, to force the unholy rage back into the recesses of our minds. To fail to do so, our Chaplains would recite the Mass Of Doom, and those who were taken were inducted into the ranks of the Death Company. Better to die with honour than to live out the rest of one's life an animal, lusting nothing for flesh and blood. Few ever manage to overcome the Black Rage, and those that did became the stronger because of it.

"They are arriving from all over the galaxy, human," spoke a gentle, but strong voice. I turned to see the legendary Eldar warrior-woman, Jain Zar, Warmistress of the Howling Banshee Aspects. A feared warrior and a respected adversary, few men - or women, for that matter - could be her equal. Tall, standing a good seven feet, and beautiful, her body armoured beneath the well-forged aspect armour, Jain Zar was an imposing sight. "I can see that, Jain Zar," I said, "But is it enough to throw back the Great Devourer? Even the might of my Emperor's armies, we cannot overwhelm this devourer of worlds. My kind faces many enemies, Jain Zar. I cannot be there all the time to deal with it, but I can deal with this one."

"You are avoiding the question I am trying to ask, Blood Angel? Why? Why do you help us? My fellow Phoenix Lords are trying to pry answers from Karhedran - who isn't giving any - and Eldrad, who's more silent than a stone when we start asking questions."

I chuckled, and pulled back my lips in a feral snarl, revealing long fangs that had drunk the blood of many. Memories came back, a sworn oath made to a young girl whom I had once played prince to when I had been but a stripling lad.

"Will you protect the galaxy for me, Sheik?"

"I swear, Cassyandra. You need not fear. Not from the dark forces of Chaos, nor the orks, nor the hordes of the Great Devourer. I promise you."

"I will come with you to see the stars, and guard your back! We'll see the realms of the Emperor, Sheik, and fight for his honour! Think about it! Maybe we'll even get a chance to see the Eldar Craftworlds!"

Even long after I found out that Cassyandra had died, the oath I took was still in effect. Made during a life that was that of a normal human being. I lowered my head, allowing my long, dark hair, to cover my features.

"I made a promise to someone a long time ago."

"Even if that promise is at the cost of your own life?"

I choked back remembered memories of lost love, lost youth, lost friends, with deep sorrow that spanned over three hundred years.

"Yes. Even if it costs me my soul."

Jain Zar looked at me for a moment, before striding away. But, somewhat, I caught the smile of approval on her full crimson lips. And that smile brought other features into being. A woman with a silver mane of hair, almond-shaped eyes of sunlit gold, a pert nose…… "Damnation! Not again! Not now! For the love of the Emperor, I'm completely besotted!" I cursed myself softly, "As though I need it!". I turned and watched the newly arrived Eldar rush to the defensive positions throughout the Craftworld. I looked up to the stars and whispered, "Mephiston, where are you, brother?"

And several thousand light-years away, a massive Imperial Battlefleet assembled. The heavily-armoured forms of the battle-barges of the Imperium, gathered from the outlying fleets from the Imperial systems, stood ready to sail to the aid of Iyanden, one of the Craftworlds of the Eldar. Mephiston and Commander Dante exchanged looks, and the former grinned, "He's a troublesome one, I know, but he's got good intentions in helping those pointed-eared twerps."

"Troublesome, brother Mephiston? Hardly. He always brings in the best excitement. Lieutenant, are the ships all readied?"

A robed Ravenwing Dark Angel Space Marine turned and faced Dante and nodded, "Yes, brother captain. We're ready."

"Excellent. Give the order. Activate warp drives for Ultima Segmentum. It is time to give the hordes of the Great Devourer bloody hell," said Mephiston. The Dark Angel nodded, and the Librarian Master could almost see his grin through his helmet. And I'll give my overrated captain a good thrashing, if he and I live through this, he added in an afterthought.

The gaping maw of the warp opened wide like the gates of Hell……..


	4. Chapter 4

_**Siege Of Iyanden - Part IV**_

_**Written by Spiritblade**_

One week passed. A week since the first wave of the hive fleet arrived and brought war to the Craftworld of Iyanden. A week of hard-fought battles, of blood, of pain, of desperation, of fear and of raw courage. The ultimate test of any mortal being, whether he or she be Eldar or human, is the test of war. Here is where heroes and monsters are made. I sat upon the ruins of an Eldar homestead, now a shapeless heap of rubble caused by bolterguns and missile launchers, gazing upon the scene around me. We had fended off one attack after another, and despite our initial successes of fending off the mycetic spores that raced towards Iyanden, the second wave overwhelmed the Eldar's auto-heavy lascannon defences and crashed into Iyanden, bringing the war right into the Eldar Craftworld. Once was bad enough. Twice is very, very bad. Three times will be a bloody nightmare. By the Emperor, these tyranids are worse than locusts! I clutched my autobolter, and released the spent cartridge before reloading another. A Falcon grav-tank laid smoldering in one ruined building, smoke pouring out of a ruined hull. The armoured bodies of its crew laid scattered, bloody holes gaping, and the faces of those bared in terrible anguish. I stood over them. One of them was still writhing in pain, eyes pleading, looking at me to administer the final blow to end his agony. I raised my autobolter to the Eldar's head and said, "Rest quietly, little one. Your death shall be avenged.". The ensuing blast blew his head to a bloody mess that left little to describe. I have administered this fate to many a soldier whose wounds were so terrible that not even the apothecaries of the Emperor could save them - this was the only merciful fate left given.

The sounds of gunfire was deafening even from where I stood, and the air was crisscrossing with laser beams and tear-drop shaped fireballs that spewed from heavy bolters. A rocket flashed across the air towards a gargoyle, disintegrating the winged monster in an instant. Up above, the hive ships and Eldar warships were locked in their deadly battle. Even from where I stood, I could tell that the Eldar were on the borderline of victory and defeat. "Brother captain!" came a voice as I turned to see the armoured form of Marcus, one of my personal Bloodguard regiment.

"Yes, Marcus?"

"It's Gewesen's unit, sir! He and his brother marines are striving to hold off a heavy genestealer attack from one of the adjoining domes. He said that they have landed behind Valkaze's units and overwhelmed the defences there!"

"Emperor blast it! Gather the Bloodguard, we move upon that area! And warn the nearby Eldar forces that the defences of that dome city have been compromised! Shut and secure every area leading out of that place!"

" 'Tis already being done, brother captain!" spoke another voice as a young Space Wolf Blood Claw ran up, "And my unit have broke another attack. We'll join you."

"What in Sanguinius's name happened to your sergeant?"

"He's dead, sir. A tyranid warrior killed him."

I cursed beneath my breath, and looked up at the star-filled void of space, and prayed to the God-Emperor that Mephiston and the others would arrive. I drew my Concilliator power sword and turned to the Blood Claws, "Come, my brother marines. If we die, we die the way our Primarchs would have wanted us to fall."

The huge Imperial starfleet moved towards the warpgate towards Ultima Segmentum sector 4, that exited near the hive world of Ichar IV. From there, it would be a few hours before they would reach the embattled Craftworld of Iyanden. Mephiston looked out the plasteel window from the bridge of the Emperor-class battleship at the massive fleet that had gathered to fight the tyranid fleet. Nigh two-hundred warships and over eight squadrons of escorts. Already, reports have filtered in from nearby systems that the tyranids have been attempting to invade their space, but the local fleets have destroyed many.

Each hour delayed would have disastrous consequences for Iyanden, and though the Eldar were no friends of the Imperium, neither were they their enemies. For many a time, Mephiston have fought alongside the Eldar, and found them proud and arrogant. But, nevertheless, even the Eldar were afraid of the Blood Angels. And for good reason, Mephiston thought, smiling ironically. The entire chapter was cursed, from the oldest veteran commander down to the lowliest scout - all were cursed with the death visions of their Primarch as he faced down the Great Betrayer Horus. Mephiston could not say he conquered the blood-thirst that afflicts the chapter, but he could control it. His young protégé and brother marine, Shateiel Iceblade, was one who struggled to emulate him. And though Mephiston wouldn't say it aloud, he knew the boy's biological father would have been proud of the man his son had become. Mephiston certainly was - despite the brat's hot-head.

Azrael had dispatched two battalions of some two hundred Space Marines from the Dark Angels chapter; Marneus was leading his own legion personally, and Mephiston and Dante led the Blood Angels. The Space Wolves Chapter was headed by Ragnar Blackmane himself. Azrael had went separately with the Third Company, to bolster the Imperial defences on Couran IV from a chaos attack. As it came directly from the Adeptus Terra, Azrael could not disobey the command, and left. Knowing that had kept Ragnar's tongue in check - even he could not challenge the authority of the Adeptus Terra(though he made some extremely sarcastic comments). The long-standing feud between the Dark Angels and the Space Wolves was legendary to the point that everyone knew about it. Space Wolves were boisterous and outgoing in nature, quick to anger, and quicker still to forgive. Dark Angels, however, were slow to anger, slower to forgive - and they were many stories concerning the dark, brooding nature of the Dark Angels. Some say that they were touched by Chaos - and were on a quest of redemption. Some said that there were traitors amongst the ranks, and that the Dark Angels will spend an eternity - if need be - to hunt them all down and earn the Emperor's Forgiveness. There were many legends about the Dark Angels - and none wanted to talk about it.

Marneus Calgar entered, and said, "For all you say, I trust this Shateiel is as formidable as you say he is?"

"He is, Lord Calgar. He'd better be - or by the Emperor, I'll drag his miserable soul back from death's own hands just to beat the living hell out of him before sending him back."

Calgar chuckled, "You sound just like my father when I was but a mere man. By the Emperor, I wish I could repeat those days with him again - but nevertheless, he was proud of what I am."

"As was Sheik's biological father of him, when they last spoke."

"You knew the man?"

"Indeed. In nature, he would make the Dark Angels look like children - and in experience, I have seen this man drop Traitor marines like flies in close combat with his power sword."

"That good?"

Mephiston shook his head, "If the Imperial Guard had one of us within their ranks, 'tis Ashram Iceblade."

"The commander of the Black Legion?"

"The same. Though, compared to the father, Sheik is far more the genuine idiot. Hot-headed, rash, crazy, and sometimes, he is infatuated with the Eldar. How in the Emperor's holy name he became a captain in our ranks eludes me!"

"He sounds like a good man."

Mephiston's smile left his handsome features as his eyes drifted back across the years. He had sensed the latent, dormant power beneath Sheik's aura, waiting to be trained and perfected. Sheik promised to be a powerful Master Librarian, but it was under a psionic lock. Mephiston had been surprised, for a psionic lock denied a psyker use of his or her powers. It had to be implemented when the child was young so that the power would not grow, added to the fact it was not easily broken. He had been with the young captain when he had been a scout. He had seen him stride proud towards the Farseer of Saim-Hann and grip his hand to signify an alliance between the Eldar and the Imperial forces in their attempt to throw the forces of Chaos off the world of Kharn-Tauragh, which bordered close to the Eye of Terror. The alliance had lasted to this day, much to Mephiston's surprise. No doubt because the wolf was still lurking near their doors, ever waiting for a single sign of weakness.

As a fully-fledged marine, he had fought countless battles, across a hundred worlds, seeing the fires of war in all Her infernal majesty. The boy that once thought war glorious now realised the nightmarish truth. But, nevertheless, seeing the danger posed to his people by uncountable enemies, he had carried out his duties befitting the Imperium's finest. What Sheik loved most of all was personal combat, and he seeked out the most formidable opponent to challenge. From Khorne Berzerker champions to Chaos Lords to even the mighty daemons of Chaos - Sheik's thirst of perfecting his battle-skills was unparalleled. And in a galaxy burning with War, there were endless opponents.

But against the forces of the Great Devourer, even Shateiel Iceblade, war-hardened as he was, would require all of his strength and tactical planning gained by decades of conflict, to turn the tide in the favour of the Eldar.

So engrossed was he by his contemplation of the past that he did not hear Marneus Calgar's question. "Excuse me?" Mephiston asked, "What was it you said? My apologies, Lord Calgar; I was remembering a few things."

"Do you think we can win?"

"The question does not arise, Lord Calgar. If we fail to severe one tentacle of the Hive Fleet Kraken, then that tentacle shall wrap around another world. We shall win or die. Brother captain Sheik refuses to withdraw from Iyanden because of that - he knows the consequences if he retreats."

The sound of armoured jackboots on plasteel floors made both Lords turn to face a blue-armoured Ultramarine, "Lord brother Calgar, Lord Mephiston, there is a transmission for the both of you."

"By whom?"

"An Eldar, Lord commander. He calls himself Yriel of Iyanden, former Admiral of the Craftworld's fleet."

Yriel of Iyanden waited patiently in his flagship with his fifty or so ships, in full view of the Imperial warfleet. Yriel could not stop believing the power the human Imperium could field into a war, and the mere size of the battlefleet nearly stopped Yriel's heart. His own kindred had been arrogant, dismissive of the young race of Man. One day, they promised, the stars would belong to them once more, as it did so long ago.

But, Yriel knew that the young race of Man needed the Eldar as the Eldar needed them. One was young and powerful beyond measure, harsh in spirit due to the endless enemies and wars it faced, and burdened with the ancient guilt of the knowledge it was they who created the Dark Legions of the traitor space marines. The other, ancient and wise, with knowledge accrued over centuries - nay, millenias - of study and perfection, but arrogant and proud. The same pride which brought low the Eldar race and gave birth to the Great Enemy, Slaanesh, and gave rise to their Dark Kin. Once, one of his kindred had proudly spoke of Man's blood staining the stars as the Eldar reclaimed their lost glory - but have they ever truly considered that those stars drenched in blood may well be their own?

There were many who said that Eldrad had warned the Emperor of Horus's betrayal, but that the Emperor had dismissed such rumours. Horus had been his closest friend and second only to him. Why should he betray him?

Yriel knew the answer. Like a father who loves his son without question, Horus broke it all, including his friend's heart, for power. Even the Eldar were not immune to betrayal by a loved one. The mon-keigh were not to be underestimated, Yriel knew, and if should he ever return to Iyanden and the Path, he would have much tales to tell his kindred.

It is easy to find something worth dying for; but is there, Yriel, something worth living for?

Eldrad of Ulthwe's words haunted him. The message that his friends had sent him a month and a half ago bespoke of his home Craftworld being besieged by a massive Tyranid fleet and being invaded. In the message, however, included several lines that surprised Yriel. Just when he thought he had seen and heard everything, the message bespoke of an Imperial force on Iyanden itself! They fought alongside the Eldar defenders tenaciously, and were led by a Blood Angel Captain that went by the name of Shateiel Iceblade. By Asuryan! A human force within the Craftworld was unheard of! Few had ever had the honour of stepping on the Craftworld.

He placed a holo-crystal within a trans-receiver, and the face of the Blood Angel captain emerged, standing atop the rubble of a homestead, fighting alongside Eldar forces and his troops. Considered handsome even amongst the Eldar, the captain stood the full seven feet of the Imperium's finest, and had the shimmering, long, dark hair that none in the galaxy save the Dark Eldar could possess. Clad in crimson power armour worn by regular marines instead of the standard issue armour worn by Blood Angel Captains, Sheik was armed with a triple-barreled autobolter, a plasma pistol and a beautifully forged power sword. So, this is him. He looks familiar…….almost like…, thought Yriel for a moment, when the similarities rocked him. He HAD seen that face before!

By Asuryan, even the grim smile is similar!

Just before his thoughts could proceed further, the comm-screen before him blinked, and activated, revealing the hulking form of an Imperial Space Marine, clad in the blood-red armour of a dread Blood Angel. The other was clad in blue-and-gold inlaid armour of the highly disciplined Ultramarines Chapter. Yriel knew them both, for even among the Eldar, were these two men legendary for their martial prowess. Mephiston, Lord Librarian of the Blood Angels, and Marneus Calgar, Lord of the Ultramarines.

"Greetings, Yriel," spoke Mephiston calmly, "What is your reason that you wish to speak to us? I know of your reputation, and I would advise you not to try anything suspicious. One move, and your fleet flies to the Eye of Terror in small pieces."

"I am not here to pick a fight with you, marine," replied Yriel, equally calm, "but to offer aid, if it be willingly accepted. The reason why I wished to speak with the both of you is that this conversation is for our ears alone. This frequency has been jammed, so we can speak without anybody listening. And if you have any of your brother marines in the same chamber, I suggest you dismiss them."

Calgar turned and nodded to the nearby marines, who departed immediately.

"Good. Now to the reason to why I am here. You are going to aid an Eldar Craftworld under attack by the Great Devourer, are you not?"

"We are. How do you know all of this?"

"I have my contacts on Iyanden, and I might say that one of your captains, Lord Mephiston, is on Iyanden itself, and to my surprise, leading Iyanden's defences along with my Eldar brothers and sisters."

"I am aware of that. He was always infatuated with your race, Yriel, truth be told."

Despite the situation, Yriel chuckled, but was not surprised. Eldar females are exceptionally beautiful, radiating a noble, pure beauty that would hold the human warriors in an enchanted thrall. Their Dark Kin, however, radiate a raw, seductive beauty that stoked the flames of passion in the breast of all who behold them.

"We are straying from the matter, captain Yriel," said Calgar, "Why are you here?"

"Like I said before, Lord Calgar, I am here to offer assistance, whether your Imperium likes it or otherwise. You, Lord Mephiston, have a brother marine you consider as a son that you can never have, in danger. I have my homeworld that lies on the brink of total and utter destruction. You, Calgar, like Ragnar Blackmane of the Wolves, have brother marines whom you will not abandon to face an enemy alone. Whether you like it or not, my fleet and I shall follow you to Iyanden."

Mephiston took several moments to measure his words, his eyes holding the look of one who gazed far into the past, before he nodded.

"Join us, then."

Yriel smiled as the comm-screen blinked out, and he felt his ship shudder as they joined the massive imperial fleet. Win or lose, they'll all go down fighting against a common enemy.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Siege of Iyanden**_

_**Part V – Funeral Pyre**_

_**Written by Shateiel Spiritblade**_

All hell had broken loose on Iyanden. With multiple breaches within the Craftworld, and defences compromised, every crossroad and major junction and bridge had turned into a battleground. The Cratworld's heavy defences still lashed out, but many have been silenced. White lights flashed out into the darkness of space, lashing the tyranid ships with scouring white beams of death. Already, the zone where the defences were being manned were already becoming a battleground, with Guardians and Aspect warrior squads fighting with termagants, hormagaunts and genestealers. Unlike their monstrous brethren, these three classes of bio-monsters were well-adepted to fighting in close-confined areas. I was surprised that the Hive Mind had not released its bio-titans into the fray, for it obviously knew that bringing in the larger bio-transports, would cause them to be destroyed before it even reached the Craftworld. Not that the Eldar were resorting to playing fair, anyway. The Eldar Titans had marched out to the massive air-locks and had opened up upon the tyranid bio-ships, but seemed to scarcely make a dent on the alien fleet. Ultra-heavy plasma cannons unleashed balls of light capable of tearing up all but the heaviest armoured and shielded battle-cruiser. Before then, a majority of the mycetic spores that had been launched towards Iyanden had been destroyed by its automated lascannon defences; now, with more than half of those defences destroyed, greater hordes of tyranids were now capable of entering the Craftworld. With one of the bio-ship kraken transports that had latched onto one of the dome-cities, genestealers were pouring out like a tidal wave, drowning the defenders in a swarm of death.

Gewesen was holed up with the remnants of the Eldar defenders and what was left of his Ultramarines in the barracks within the centre of the fifth dome-city. Valkaze's hold on the fourth was close to collapse. The Phoenix Lords were fighting tenaciously with their warriors on the third, but it was as if they were trying to stop a sinking ship with a leaking bucket. I, myself, cannot say I was in a better position. The entire defence lines that I had set before the onset of the battle for the Craftworld had all but shattered. There was fierce fighting everywhere, and death lurked in every shadow and in every darkened corner and burning alleyway. Lightning forked down from the Warlocks of the craftworld, followed by Hellfire psionic attacks by the Librarians. The Eldar had pushed themselves to the extent that they demolished their beautiful spired buildings to halt the advance of the invaders for a few moments so that reinforcements could arrive. I gazed upon a scene of utter carnage. Nigh two dozen Striking Scorpions laid amongst a horde of 'stealers more than five times their number – but they were obviously overrun. I wondered, briefly, how Bennu was faring, and if she was still alive. I had suffered several wounds from deadly genestealer blows, and my left arm was near useless. It could be treated and put back to full use, yes, but only if it doesn't get hit again. The pain that lanced through my battered form sent me back on my knees. One of my Bloodguard said, "Brother captain, you're badly wounded. Rest a moment, and let me treat thy wounds."

"We cannot tarry here. The tyranids are close by. If we don't link up to the nearest defensive position – we are all dead."

Even from where I stood, the sounds of fighting was deafening from the distance. Explosions blossomed in a fiery conflagration. Above, swooping hawks fought with hordes of gargoyles, and the massive Eldar starships were locked in a violent firefight with tyranid bio-ships. But, it was clear that the Eldar starships were having the advantage of speed, while the living ships of the tyranid fleet had clearly superior firepower. If I were gambling on the odds, I would be wise not to put my bet on either side; but in this case, I smiled with dark amusement, I have to lay my bet on the Eldar fleet. Putting it on the tyranid fleet is a simple death sentence. A shout, mingled with fear and loathing, drew my attention back to the threat before me, "Captain!"

A swarm of genestealers, like a living wall of death, charged towards me. My Bloodguards and I hefted our weapons, and with a shout, unleashed a withering hail against the onrushing horde, felling many, but not stopping the swarm. I held my hellfire bolter in my still-usable right arm, sending endless hails of armour-piercing, explosive shells. Empty casings fell to the bloody ground of the Craftworld, that now laid thick with bodies of friend and foe, like a waterfall.

Then, laser beams flashed into the advancing horde, exploding amidst their ranks, and charring those caught in the path of its path. A war-cry, like that of a phoenix rising gloriously from the ashes of its former incarnation, split through the air. I whirled, and a smile pulled on my lips, wiping out the searing sensation of pain that flowed from my wounded left arm. There, mounted on a jetbike, like a descending angel, was Bennu and her squadron. Her shriek of rage resounded once more as she swooped down, sending another blast into the advancing horde. My brother marines cheered the reinforcements as they blasted the horde into oblivion. Bennu landed her jetbike close to me, and in a rare flash of emotion, she clutched me close to her strong, slender form, and cursed, "You stupid, mon-kei bastard! What were you trying to do, holding the dome-city when it is on the verge of utter collapse? By Isha, look at you! You look as though you have fought with the Avatar himself!"

I grinned despite the excruciating pain, "An honour I would rather reserve for later, if I survive." . Shaking her head, she helped my heavy, battered form onto the jetbike and mounted it herself, "I have to get you to an apothecary."

"What about my brothers?"

"They are in good hands," Bennu nodded as she sped away into the stars, streamlining her body so as to prevent herself from being too open a target. I followed her example, spraying the streets below with boltgun fire as we shot past. The scent of blood, by the halo of Sanguinius, was arousing, and it was nearly driving me berserk. My hold around the Phoenix Maiden tightened to the point she actually shouted, "By the gods, Sheik, loosen your hold! You'll squeeze the life out of me!". I forced it back into the darkest recesses of my mind. I do not wish to become like the Khorne berserkers – devoid of reason and compassion. By the Emperor, the day that happened is the day I enter the Death Company. I had seen several good brother marines under me being relegated to that brotherhood of the damned, all tied with oaths of duty to our Emperor and our people, and with the singular knowledge that it is better to die in battle than to become a rabid animal. The scent of Bennu's wounds made it far more difficult, and the sweat and strength that radiated from her lithe, strong form aroused another kind of lust that I had felt once before when Bennu had tended to my wounds. I saw Bennu's eyes then, and saw that they were filled with fear. She knew that her wounds were arousing me, her rich, warm blood, calling out to me like a siren song. Calling out to me to seize her and tear open her wounds and take the rich, warm liquid beneath her skin. The past of the Horus Heresy began to creep in, obscuring the visions of the burning Iyanden Craftworld to that of a Chaos-oozing battle-barge where my progenitor had fought against the Great Betrayer.

A song crept into my mind, as the vision retreated to the darkest corners of my mind. Bennu's voice. The song…..so familiar….and I lowered my head against her armoured back. With it, intermingled my mother's sweet voice.

Rest now, little one. Fear not, I am with you.

I heard my father, the man who breathed life into me, sensed the warm comfort as he clutched me tightly, calming the waves of terror that emerged from the throes of a nightmare. Sensed Sanguinius, smiling in some corner, giving me strength to battle my blood-lust.

Be strong, child. Fear not the Darkness.

Bennu relaxed as the Blood Angel captain's hold lessened in strength, and felt his head rest against her armoured back. She sighed in relief, knowing that the Blood Angel was in the near-throes of a Blood Rage. And with her controlling the jet-bike, it would have ended with the death of them both had he surrendered to his thirst. For a brief moment, she pitied the Blood Angel, not because of his weakness, but because she understood what it was like to fight yourself each day, praying that you would not become a rabid animal that you fought so hard, and yet knowing that one day, you may fall. She turned to look at her sleeping companion. The lines of responsibility, weariness and pain were gone, replaced by a look of childish peacefulness that made Bennu, despite what was happening around her, wonder what he looked like as a child. He must have been adorable. A hormagaunt charged out from a shadowed alleyway, landing right in front of her jetbike's twin-linked shuriken cannons. Bennu did not hesitate, and opened fire, sending bloody ichor splashing over a blood-drenched road. The defense of the Craftworld had come at a high price. Countless Eldar were slain or wounded, and the remnants of the elite Imperial force that had aided her people in the defense of their home had died here, hundreds of light years away from their homeworlds.

Her comm-line activated, as Alriel, one of her squad, reported in, "Exarch, we have managed to evacuate the Blood Angels and all the Imperial Guards we could find and carry. Karhedran has ordered all defenders to pull out of this territory."

"No! We cannot abandon this place to those creatures!"

"To hold this place is a lesson in futility, Exarch! Please, we must fall back!"

As though punctuating Alriel's words, a group of retreating Imperial Guards and Dark Angel Space marines led by Valkaze Stormguard were falling back in waves, making the tyranids pay in blood for each yard of ground. Their battle-tanks were sending heavy blasts down the roads at the advancing horde, tearing bloody swathes through their ranks, but not stopping them. Valkaze, seeing her and his childhood friend, shouted at her, ordering her to fall back. His assault squads had set demolition charges to every bridge to hamper the advance of the tyranids. The area could still be held, but he desperately needed reinforcements.

"What of the passages that link the dome-cities?"

"Secured. Karhedran has left the one closest to the Temple to allow us an escape route."

That, Bennu knew, could only mean the gate near the Temple of Isha. A shout made Bennu turn as the Phoenix Lord, Jain Zar, her voice a coalescent echo of a dozen voices thunderous in her war song, led three dozen Howling Banshees into a bloody close combat melee with hormaguants and genestealers. Above, Maugan Ra led his Dark Reapers, their rocket launchers giving the Howling Banshees covering fire. Bennu espied a group of jump-pack equipped forms leaping into the air, fleeing the heart of the dome city, moments before a shattering explosion heralded the destruction of the bridges.

"Flee, little one," spoke a powerful voice in her mind, and Bennu turned towards the direction of the mind-voice. The green robes of a Warlock fluttered above a building, accompanied by the blood-red armoured form carrying a force sword. A Blood Angel Librarian. The Warlock pointed towards the Temple of Isha, an unmistakable order to leave. Bennu gritted her teeth, part of her wanting to stay and fight on, part of her realising that if she tarried here, her companion would pay the price. As she was about to apply the throttle, a soft moan emerged behind her, as her wounded companion stirred. She looked at his wounds, and realised that they had stopped bleeding. He looked up at her, and saw that, to her horror, the eyes blazed with barely constrained power. Psionic power. His expression frightened her, and she realised that he had no idea who she was or where he was.

Psionic power erupted forth, arcing into a streak of lightning as Shateiel Spiritblade of the Blood Angels' dormant power erupted forward, slamming into the heart of the tyranid host, leaving bloody craters where the lightning bolts smashed. He screamed, "I'll kill you, Horus, you bastard! The human spheres do not deserve the rule you intend to impose on them! Your bastard Dark Gods shall not hold the galaxy while I draw breath!"

Eldrad Ulthran of Ulthwe touched the wraithbone core of the Craftworld, feeling its pain and agony at the battles that raged throughout its form. He concentrated his energies upon the injured Blood Angel Captain, attempting to unlock his psionic potential that was kept locked in his mind. The memories touched the ancient farseer, and he was impressed at the noble deeds worthy of even the Phoenix Lords themselves. The planet of Kharn-Tauragh, the siege of Morion IV, and hundreds of battlefields across the Imperium, the Blood Angel rose through the ranks of his Chapter by emulating the ideals of his Primarch, and his mortal father, hoping to someday be worthy of them. But, the farseer could feel the loneliness that ate away at his soul, and even though he was surrounded by his brothers, the yearning for companionship never left him.

Duty, he knew, was a harsh mistress; she demanded everything, offering little in return. He had lived long enough to know that. The Emperor of Mankind locked himself in an eternal vigil for his people, seeing to it that the Imperium remains united, whatever the cost, to hold itself against those who would destroy mankind. The race, true, was young, and had a long, long way to go before it reached the same maturity as the Eldar.

The mindlocks mystified Eldrad, for the subtle psionic emnations bespoke of the mental work of another space marine – and from its aura, he could tell it was a Dark Angel space Marine. Why would those reclusive, secretive marines have anything to do with this lad? He traced the emnations carefully. No, something about this particular Dark Angel was different from the rest of his brothers – something shameful scarred that aura terribly, granting the man little respite from whatever that damned him to an eternal hell of dishonour. He had heard of these Dark Angels before and knew of their deeds. Fallen Dark Angel sprang into Eldrad's mind. But why? He remembered meeting Cypher, remembered the painful aura that surrounded the massive marine like a funeral shroud. Even though his Order had cast him out, Cypher and his brothers went forth on a quest, hoping that one day, the Emperor would forgive them for their act of betrayal. Wait! Eldrad put the Blood Angel captain's features, and put Cypher's alongside it. By the Gods….they're identical! Yes, the Blood Angel was the younger version of the Fallen Dark Angel, but the features were there! Possibilities went through Eldrad's mind as one part of it attempted to unlock the psionic mindlocks, while the other probed the timestream. Eldrad had to be very careful. One mistake was all it will take to see him slain and his soul dragged to the maw of the Great Enemy, Slaanesh. He probed the timestream on the past hundred hundred years, searching……..and found what he was looking for. There, a woman clutched a tiny form wrapped in cloth, looking up at her companion. There, standing beside her, was Cypher himself. She, like her companion, was clad in armour – but her armour was that of the Sisters of Battle, and unlike those warrior-priestesses of the Emperor, this one wore her hair long and cascading, the golden locks tumbling over her armour. The inherent, stubborn nature, no doubt, of the Blood Angel captain came from his ancestor.

But the memories were happy ones, and the farseer knew that each day, to gain strength, Cypher would look back upon this day with joy as he fights to regain his lost honour. The memories of his beloved, of the child he shall never see, but knows whom shall grow safely and sire children of his own. And, like him, they shall take the path of the warrior, unable to deny the Blood Call. Whatever shame Cypher had borne with him, his descendants seemed to share it, unable to explain what or why forced them to take up arms to defend the Imperium.

He worked carefully, unlocking each layer, until finally…………..RELEASE! The psionic powers long hidden in the Blood Angel captain erupted forth like a volcano, nearly overwhelming Eldrad with its passion and intensity. He saw the Final Hour of the Horus Heresy, the dread sight of the noble, angel-winged Sanguinius falling before the Great Betrayer himself. He heard the psychic scream that embedded itself into the Blood Angel's gene seed, damning them all to an unholy thirst for blood and recalling the death of their Father. He saw Sanguinius's smile, and Eldrad, who had lived for nigh ten millenia, felt as though he was facing his father yet again, and it warmed the ancient farseer's spirit. Yes, one day, the Eldar will regain their lost power. The question if it can be a reality nagged at him.

But, for now, bathed in radiant power of the newly risen psionic, Eldrad aided the Blood Angel captain in controlling his newfound powers. It would be a waste of a good human man if he was consumed by his own soulfire.

Bennu stared in shocked horror as psionic power exploded from the Blood Angel captain. She had touched it, briefly, when she had made him her own, delighting in the pure, raw soulfire that he radiated. The scars of war had not diminished any humanity in his heart, despite the fact he was grim, stern and cold and given to brooding rages. Psionic fires erupted, turning even the largest tyranid bio-monster into dust. The massive zoanthrope, renowned for its unbelievable psychic powers, was turned to ashes as a blast of fire was shot in its direction. It had raised a barrier for its protection, but the psionic-caused fire cut through it like a knife through hot butter.

She covered her eyes, half-awed, half-terrified by this display of power. Bennu knew that most newly-elevated psionics could barely control their power – but Sheik was controlling it, of all things! Even the most promising Farseer needed much training to control their powers. Lightning and fire blasted outwards, and both Eldar and Imperial defenders took cover. Sheik had lost control of himself, and the unholy Black Rage mingled with his newfound psionic powers made him a person to be trifled with. Not that she had ANY ideas.

Her communications device crackled to life as a voice said, "My lady, there are fluctuations in the warp."

"What is coming through?"

"Unknown, my lady. But, whatever it is, there are many of them. Eldrad senses it, but with the bio-ships emerging from the warp, he cannot tell if they are tyranid, Imperial or our own."

"Damn it, I hope it is not the first. If more arrive, our home will be destroyed."

"Let's hope it is not."

Then, above the heavily embattled and besieged Craftworld, a great rent in the fabric of space heralded the new arrivals. Huge warships with concave prows that looked as though they were equipped with battering rams sailed into the vast emptiness of space. They sped towards the ships, and under the light of the thousands of stars that filled the void of space, Bennu could recognise them. Their distinctive concave prows that emulated the shapes of battering rams, and their cathedral-like shapes and double-headed eagle emblems, visible even from where she stood, heralded the coming of the Imperium's fleet. There, amongst them, stood the sleek, beautiful warships and destroyers, all bearing the mark of Yriel, the former, banished admiral of the Iyanden fleet. As one, the allied armada, numbering over three hundred ships, unleashed a withering barrage of torpedoes and cannon fire upon the living ships of the tyranid bio-fleet.

Bennu, along with hundreds of others upon the embattled Craftworld screamed in joy, the shout of a phoenix taking flight as it flew upon wings of fire against the darkness that sought to enfold the realm in

Shadow, as they took up their weapons and fought with renewed vigour against the monstrous invaders.

And victory was won this night.

Iyanden was safe.

Epilogue

I turned to gaze upon the beautiful Craftworld I had defended with my life, along with that of my comrades-in-arms. Even though it was badly damaged, I was still astounded by its beauty. Admiral Yriel, who had aided the Imperial fleet in repelling the tyranid bio-fleet, was welcomed back to the Path, and dozens of ships stood guard as ships bearing the Eldar who had been evacuated before the start of the battle, re-entered its docks.

I looked down at Bennu's gift. The blade was beautiful, engraved with runes of justice and life, and the two-handed hilt was made of rare wraithbone – and that it was capable of channeling my newfound psionic powers better. She had promised that the sword would serve me well before she gave me the final farewell present. My lips still tingled with the kiss she had given, amidst the wolf-whistles and cheeky grins – and Mephiston, the smirking bastard, I knew, was going to blabber his mouth off to Dante and everyone else in the Chapter. By the Emperor, I'll make him swallow his teeth before we even got back to Baal!

As the Wrath of God turned towards the jump-point, I caught sight of a beautiful, slender figure upon the main lanch platform of the Craftworld, clutching a golden-bladed power sword – an imitation of my broken Concilliator Power Sword. Her mane of silver hair identified her, and my eyes widened as she raised the sword high, catching upon it the gleam of starlight that made her hair burn with silver fire. I touched her briefly, feeling her joy, the richness of her fiery spirit embracing me for one last time.

I chuckled despite myself, hearing Mephiston's sarcastic voice after the ceremony, but his eyes were warm, "Sheik, my hot-headed brother, you have better taste in women than I do."

And I heard a mental voice, along with rich laughter, That you do, my love, that you do.

As the ship slipped into the warp, I threw my head back and laughed.


End file.
